


Evening Song

by thegrrrl2002



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrrrl2002/pseuds/thegrrrl2002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future Schmoop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evening Song

Rodney leans back in his chair and sips his beer. The sun is just beginning to set over the New New New New Lantean Sea--John has flown the city to four new homes in the past seventeen years--and so far this one is his favorite. One moon is already hanging low in the sky, and every sunset is a festival of reds and purples and pinks.

He steals a glance a John, sitting beside him, eyes closed as he basks in the sun. A beer bottle is resting on his lap, cradled loosely in his hand. The light glints off the gray in his hair, and it's totally unfair that John gets hotter as he grows older, the crinkly laugh lines around his eyes and mouth accentuating his features, hair still thick and glossy as it turns into a striking blend of gray and black and of course John is still as long and lean as ever.

Rodney suspects the years haven't been as kind to him, but he gets to look at John, gets to see John in unguarded moments like this so he's pretty sure he has the better deal. He takes another drink of his beer, watches John some more, then says, "You know, I thought I'd never get to have this."

John opens his eyes, lifts his beer and gazes at it quizzically. "The beer?"

"No, no, not the beer." Rodney scowls. "Must you be so obtuse?"

John raises the bottle to his lips and drinks. "It's good beer, though."

"I'm not talking about the beer." Rodney stares out at the horizon, where the sky is just beginning to show streaks of red. "I just never thought we'd make it this far."

"Well," John says, putting his bare feet up on the edge of the balcony wall and wiggling his toes in the breeze. "I guess you can rest easy now, with Lorne in charge of the city. Does that make you feel safer?"

"What? No. I--well yes, your hemi-demi-semi retirement does bring me some small comfort, believe me, but--oh, you are such a jerk."

John is grinning at him and even after all these years it's hard for Rodney to glare back in return but he tries, really hard, because he's trying to say something serious here, trying to tell John that he absolutely, positively believed he would outlive John, that he had steeled himself for the day that John would never return from a mission yet here he is, here they are, relaxed and old(er) and living a pretty damn good life together.

"A jerk," Rodney repeats because he's kind of mad at John for scaring him for so long. "A big big stupid jerk."

John nods, then kisses him, hand cupping the back of Rodney's neck and pulling him close. John's lips are cold from the beer, and Rodney kisses them warm again, sweet, tender kisses and he thinks that maybe John does understand, but that doesn't make him any less of a jerk, no, no way.

John leans closer and nuzzles Rodney's neck. "You want to take this inside?" he whispers into Rodney's ear.

"What do you think?" Rodney answers. He pulls John's hand down into his lap, where his cock is already beginning to respond happily to John's touch.

John laughs and kisses him again before standing and tugging Rodney to his feet. "Come on, Dr. Crankyface."

"What? What? I am so not--"

Rodney follows John to their bedroom, protesting all the way even though probably true. He's grown even crankier over the years and yet John is as unfazed by it as ever which is something Rodney is never going to understand but is forever grateful for, along with slow lazy sex in the early evening and John's low laughter and the way John says his name and a hundred million other things that have gotten them to where they are now.

"Crankyface," John repeats as he pulls Rodney's shirt off.

"You know, I really like the way Lorne has set up the patrols," Rodney says. "Much more efficient. How come you never did that?"

And then John is pushing him down on the bed, asking who's the big jerk now, nipping at Rodney's belly and Rodney yelps and laughs and runs his hands through John's salt and pepper hair and Rodney's not really mad and someday he'll get over the scared part but right now he has more important things to think about, such as getting John's pants off and getting John off and making John laugh that silly, happy laugh and revel in the fact that yes, at long last, they do get to have this.


End file.
